


it's time we danced with the truth

by quakeriders



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Author doesn't know how to Lawyer, F/M, Sexual Harassment, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-15 19:22:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18079436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: Feyre is a junior attorney at the prestigious law firm Prythian & Hybern and tries to avoid getting sucked into the rumor mill by her bloodthirsty colleagues. When her boss makes her an offer she literally can not refuse, she suddenly finds herself gaining much more attention than she had ever wished for.or the one in which all the high lords are partners in a law firm and Feyre just wants to make enough money and gain enough experience to start her own firm





	1. the set-up

**Author's Note:**

> Tamlin is a proper tool in this one. Him and Hybern are literal sleazy business men. Be prepared for that- I'll get to the Feysand stuff in the next two chapters, pinky promise
> 
> My knowledge of Lawyering in nonexistent, so sorry for that in advance

Feyre watched bleary eyed as the coffee slowly dripped into her waiting cup. With the sound and smell of freshly ground coffee beans in her nose, she was impatient for her first sip. She shifted from one foot onto the other, her heels clicking softly against the marble tiles.

The kitchen was empty at this hour. Most of the partners wouldn’t arrive until later. Even the senior associates were probably still enjoying the warmth of their beds. Only the junior associates were here at the crack of dawn, quietly checking their mail or getting ready for the first meetings of the day.

Feyre tried to ignore the soft whisper of gossip that was being exchanged behind her back. After her internship last summer at Prythian & Hybern, she had been asked to join their staff after graduation and had nearly died of happiness.

But in a law firm as big and competitive as this one, associates couldn’t just let the rumor mill get to their head. She had heard about another girl that started with her, who had allegedly been caught with a partner’s cock in her mouth in a conference room about three weeks into their employment. She had left by the end of that week.

So Feyre didn’t particularly care for the gossip and neither did she want to be caught gossiping with the others. She was here to work, get some experience and maybe earn enough money to start her own business.

This place was full of sharks, desperate for a drop of blood to swallow someone whole. Feyre wanted to be out before she was the one who bled.

Her coffee finally finished, she picked up the cup and with a slight nod to any co-workers around the office headed towards her desk. She didn’t have an office, instead she had a sizeable cubicle in the middle of the large office space. She had been lucky enough to get a corner, so that she could see through the floor-to-ceiling widows that lined the walls.

She was close to Tamlin’s office, as he had taken her under his wing. He was one of the seven partners and she had already gotten to know him a little over the summer. But mostly, she had been communicating through Lucien with him. Lucien was the senior associate who kept her busy.

She didn’t mind it, though. As long as they kept sending work her way, she knew that she was doing a good job. And since Lucien was Tamlin’s favourite associate and she seemed to be Lucien’s, she had a clear advantage over the other first years.

Still she sighed as slid into her chair and spotted the stack of papers before her. Lucien wasn’t a big fan of digital paperwork, so her desk was a little more crowded than the one next to hers.

Bron and Hart, her immediate desk neighbours were given less work and not always through Lucien. Feyre didn’t care much about that either. She didn’t want to seem competitive and as long as she wasn’t forgotten, she wouldn’t crave more attention that she already got.

She pulled the stack of papers towards her and began reading them. By the time she had finished the third witness statement, filed two reports and made six calls, Tamlin and Lucien stopped by her desk to greet her.

"Good morning." She told them, flashing them a polite smile. Tamlin stood half a step behind Lucien, as the red-headed man asked, "How are the reports doing?"

Her smile grew into something more earnest. "All done." At his surprise, she added, "I’ve been here for a while."

"Good work." Tamlin said, suddenly. Her eyes flickered to his. "You should join our meeting after lunch then."

She wanted to gape, but instead she nodded. "Of course."

"Until then." He said and left without a word to Lucien. Lucien asked her a few more questions and when she had nothing but good news for him, he too departed with a curt nod. She went back to work after that.

Feyre had been here for three months and she hadn’t even joined Tamlin for a meeting. She wasn’t privy to his calendar, so she wasn’t sure what the meeting was about, but no matter what it would be a learning experience.

By the time lunch came around, her workload had considerably lightened and a little flutter of nerves awoke in her stomach. Instead of letting it eat her up bit by bit, she decided to grab a quick lunch at the diner across the street and be here early enough to calm herself before the meeting.

It was sunny enough outside, so she left the office in nothing but her pencil skirt and the sweater she wore over her blouse. Enjoying the warmth of the sun, she crossed the street. The diner wasn’t much and almost no one from the office came here for lunch, so it was the best place to avoid getting sucked into the toxic mess that was her colleagues and their mind games.

—

Lucien picked her up from her desk and by the time they entered the biggest conference room in their office, Feyre was properly panicking.

He pointed towards one of the chairs that lined the back wall and Feyre gladly sat down. She had her notebook with her and nervously bit her lip as she waited.

She knew that this was more than a meeting with a client, since they wouldn’t need two dozen seats for that. But she wasn’t sure why she was joining a meeting that seemed this important.

Feyre almost gaped in open surprise as the first few partners started trickling in. First Tamlin entered and sat down. Lucien sat down on his right, Ianthe - his other senior associate - on his left. Then Tarquin, Thesan, Kallias, Helion and Beron entered one by one. All of them accompanied by two or three of their closest associates. When most of the seats were taken and the partners were chatting softly to each other, another group entered. Rhysand and his two senior associates Morrigan and Amren. Feyre watched them take their seats until a single spot remained empty.

Then Amarantha came in, her red hair so dark that it looked like blood. She was the senior partner and Feyre couldn’t help but hider her shiver as the woman passed by without sparing her a single glance. She was terrifying. A demon in the court, or so she had heart. Ruthless and cunning. She could tear apart every argument and someone in law school had once told her that another lawyer had broken down crying in the courtroom after she was done with them.

Feyre licked her lips and crossed her legs. She tried to make herself small, because even though a few people sat with her against the wall, none of them were first years. Her heart was beating wildly against her chest and she was beginning to think that she wasn’t supposed to be here. This seemed too important to include someone who had been here for only three months.

She hadn’t even been to court on her own.

Swallowing her anxiety, she flipped open her notebook but noticed someone looking at her. Her heart stumbled over a beat when she found the gaze. Dark blue eyes pierced into her. Right through her skin and into her soul.

Rhysand.

His face was relaxed, like his body and he looked gloriously bored. But those eyes, there was so much spark in them that Feyre felt like she was being electrified.

She swallowed again and looked away. The room quieted as Amarantha sat down and tapped her sharp nails against the table. Feyre couldn’t help herself, she snuck another glance towards Rhysand and found him still staring at her.

When their eyes met for the second time, he slowly smirked at her. It was a dangerous, almost predatory smirk and it made her feel like he was a cat and she a cornered mouse.

For the second time, Feyre looked away. But this time she blushed.

She wasn’t going to let herself be reeled in by a pair of pretty eyes or a seductive smirk. She was here to work, to learn and to have enough to start her own practice. She wasn’t here to become the next girl on her knees with a cock in her mouth.

So as Amarantha began speaking, Feyre refused to even look towards where Rhysand sat. Instead she either looked down at the blank page on her lap or at the back of Lucien’s head.

—

It was a strategic meeting. Amarantha praised and critiqued everyone but she seemed to be favouring a few partners over the others. Tamlin was one of them. They spoke about high profile cases, about finances, about plans for an overseas expansion.

After an hour, the meeting ended and Feyre rose to stand beside Lucien. She purposefully ignored any partner that walked passed her towards the door.

Tamlin was whispering with Ianthe about something until the blonde woman let out a musical laugh and touched his arm seductively. She tried not to make a face. Lucien however didn’t hide his unease and coughed.

That seemed to draw Tamlin’s reaction. He smoothly slid out of Ianthe’s grasp and turned towards them. His gaze skipped over Lucien and landed on her. "Feyre, I want you to come to my office. I have something I want to talk to you about."

She nodded and they filed out of the room. Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted a body clad in a black, tailored suit and turned her head. A few of them were wearing black, but only one of the partners was known for always sporting an all black outfit. And it was the person she was trying desperately to avoid.

So she followed Tamlin, Lucien and Ianthe outside and towards Tamlin’s office. The other two broke away when they passed their office and Feyre was begging to think that this day was a giant test for her nerves.

Tamlin held his door open for her and she brushed passed him inside. The door clicked shut and Tamlin gestured towards the chair across his own. The desk between them was immaculate.

She sat and tried not to fidget.

Tamlin’s expression softened as if he knew precisely how nervous she was.

"Lucien has told me about all the good work you’ve been doing." He started and Feyre relaxed a little. "Don’t tell him, but I’m thinking he’s purposefully giving you more work than the others because he’s annoyed you’re so good."

"I won’t tell him." She promised.

He chuckled at that. "I know that you’ve been with us only a short while, but I have a new case and I would like you to have a more active role in this. It’s a major client of ours. It might even be the first step on your way to making senior."

Her eyes snapped up to his in surprise. He chuckled again at her look.

"I’ve only been working here for three months." She told him, not knowing if she should just shut her mouth and be glad. But this seemed too good to be true.

He just shrugged. "I know talent when I see it. You have a sharp mind, I want to put you to use."

She smiled at that. "Thank you. I mean for this opportunity."

"No, thank you, Feyre." He told her, before digging up a file from his drawer and handing it to her. "The client’s name might be familiar. You’ll have the rest of the day to get acquainted with it. I’ll set you up to access my calendar and send more details your way."

She thanked him again and left his office.

Back at her own desk, Feyre flipped open the file and saw the name immediately. Hybern. The client she would be working with was the great-great son of the man who had started this law firm. Big client, indeed.

She was about halfway through the file, when she received an email with more files and an invitation to a dinner with Tamlin and Hybern.

"Holy shit." She murmured to herself and saved the date and time on her own calendar. Three days until she would be dining with her boss and one of the richest men in this city, this country even.

—

The meeting with Hybern came faster than Feyre thought possible. One moment she’s pouring over memos, scheduling clerks to deliver them to court and the next the app on her phone reminded her that she needed to head home to get ready.

Tamlin hadn’t been subtle about the dress code. And if he had been, the restaurant they were meeting at was enough of an indication. So her most lawyerly dress had been dry-cleaned and she had given her most comfortable yet stylish high heels a shiny new polish.

The town car was already waiting before her apartment complex when she left. Heels clicking over the pavement, she hurried towards it. Before she could reach down to open the door however, someone opened it from the inside.

Surprised, she spotted Tamlin in one of his usual suits already sitting there. She slid in beside him, carefully that her dress didn’t drive up too high. She shut the door against the howling wind and smoothed her hair back down.

"Hello." She greeted her boss.

"Good evening."

The car began to move and Tamlin seemed to be thinking hard about something. Finally, after a far too long stretch of silence he turned to face her. She did the same.

"I would like to ask you to play a role today." He said, hesitantly.

She raised one eyebrow.

"Hybern is a very important client, as you are well aware. And he likes to do business with people, whose company he enjoys."

Dread coiled in her stomach. Not purely at the words but at the tone that implied something else. But he didn’t stop there.

"Although his forefather started this firm, he’s been known to let other firms handle his legal matters. Companies that are known to provide an array of services for their clients."

"What are you saying?" She asked, sick of him talking around the subject.  
"I’m saying that if he makes a move on you, you should encourage his advances."

Feyre pursed her lips, anger roiling in her stomach. "So, I’m here as a bargaining chip, not an actual lawyer." It wasn’t a question but she needed him to say it.

"You’re here to sweeten the deal. And if you succeed, I’ll promise you I’ll give you cases where you will be acting as an actual lawyer." He intoned the last words like he was trying to mimic her.

"And if I refuse?" Her voice was calm, surprising even herself.

"You remember what happened to Jesminda?" His tone was equally calm, but there’s a glint in his green eyes that made her want to jump out of the car.

She looked away from him, facing the back of the seat before her. Jesminda, the girl who had been bullied out of the firm. Feyre couldn’t loose this job. Not right now. She jus t couldn’t. She had learned long ago that she was willing to do anything to survive. "Alright."

He turned too and she could feel him smile. "I knew you were a good girl."

Feyre felt like she’d been slapped. Gritting her teeth, she clutched her handbag and they didn’t speak for the rest of the ride.

—

Hybern greeted them with a sleazy smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was in his mid-forties maybe, his dark hair peppered with grey streaks. His hand was rough as she shook it. And with a hand on the small of her back, he led her to their table.

During their dinner, they didn’t bother to converse with her. She felt like a decoration, that had been brought along to be ogled when the two men were silent for brief moments.

By then end of the meal they hadn’t once talked about the actual case and Feyre felt like she had ground her teeth hard enough to turn them into stumps.

As they parted, Hybern gave her another once over and turned to Tamlin. "I like this one. I’ll consider it."

Then he snaked an arm behind her waist and pressed an entirely unpleasant kiss on her cheek.

She wasn’t sure if she should be slapping him or Tamlin. But by the time she was back in the town car, her fingers were shaking with rage.

If Tamlin saw, he didn’t react. He simply dropped her off at her place and told her that he would be seeing her tomorrow.

Feyre entered her apartment, slamming the door behind her. She stripped the heels off her feet and threw them into a corner. Then she just slumped down on the plush carpet and began crying.


	2. the rollercoaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> enter: Mor and Rhys as actual characters. and a bit of Cassian, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **heads up** , actual workplace sexual harassment in this one. nothing explicit, but Tamlin's still a dick

Tamlin called her into his office at 10am the next day. She wondered if she could just ignore him and keep working. But when Lucien kept standing by her desk and tapped his foot impatiently, she rose.

He knocked on the office door, opened it, ushered her inside then closed it. She had barely registered that he wasn’t coming in with her, before Tamlin stood from his own chair and walked around his desk.

"Hello, Feyre. How are you feeling today?"

"Fine." She told him, not feeling like putting on her chipper mask for him.

He looked disappointed by her mood and pointed towards the couch by the windows. The blinds were drawn and though the sun had risen, the room was dimly lit. She slowly walked towards it.

"Hybern just called me. He’s willing to accept our offer." He told her and sat down in the middle of the couch and Feyre realised that there was no space to sit without their legs touching.

Instead she stood a couple steps away from him. And crossed her arms.

"He wants to meet you soon. But before I send you to him, I need to make sure that you’re up for the job."

Feyre kept looking at him. The way he sat, the glint in his eyes. She realised that she had no power here, that she had the choice of doing exactly what he wanted her to do or loosing her job. Getting fired from a place like this would probably ruin her career before it had even started.

In horror, she watched as he undid his belt, then popped open the button of his pants. His eyes were still fixed on her when the sound of the zipper being pulled down echoed through the room.

"Get on your knees." He told her and tears burned in her eyes.

—

Half an hour later, Feyre was shaking, sitting down on the closed toiled seat as she swallowed the panicked sobs that threatened to escape from her mouth. Every now and then, she couldn’t hold one in.

Her make up was ruined, hands already stained with mascara and her stomach still roiling. She wanted to scream, wanted to go back to that office and claw that bastard’s eyes out. But all she could do was cry silently in the restroom.

The sound of someone entering froze her. She heard the telltale signs of heels clicking over the floor. Her stomach lurched again and Feyre moved. She couldn’t vomit all over the floor, so she spun around and emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

At first, she couldn’t hear anything, her mind drifting off somewhere far away but then a gentle knock pulled her back.

"Hey, are you okay in there?" A soft voice asked.

Instead of a reply she heaved again. When she was sure that her stomach was truly empty, she flushed the toilet and stood on shaky legs.

She could hear the sound of the person pacing and knew that there was no way to get out of this unnoticed. She unlocked the door of the stall and stepped out.

It was Morrigan, concern written all over her face. She looked at her for a while before asking, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Feyre shook her head, brushing passed her to wash her face, her mouth. God, her mouth. The thought made her stomach roil again but there was nothing left to throw up. Still, the tears didn’t stop.

Morrigan watched her through the mirror and biting her lip softly. Her arms were crossed and Feyre wanted nothing but to be left alone.

Tamlin had told her to get cleaned up and come back. She didn’t want to go back. She couldn’t.

"Why don’t you come to my office for a while?" Morrigan asked finally, as Feyre was using the paper towels to clean her face. "It’s close and I have make up. And wine."

She couldn’t very well go back to her desk looking like this, so she nodded.

Once she didn’t look like she’d been vomiting her guts up and sobbing in the bathroom, Morrigan let her down the hallway and into her office.

It was smaller than Tamlin’s, but the interior was lively. The blinds pulled all the way up to allow the sunlight to bathe the room in golden light. Her desk was cluttered with papers and folders and a couple of dirty mugs. By the wall was a red couch and a tray with wine and a couple of glasses.

She gently guided Feyre onto the couch and sat down next to her. "You’re one of the new ones, right?" Morrigan asked. "One of Tamlin’s?"

Feyre flinched at the name and the other woman saw it. Her expression hardened. "What did he do?"

And Feyre didn’t know why, but the way Morrigan looked at her, she felt like she could tell her without loosing her job. As she told her about Hybern and dinner, Morrigan’s hand found hers and gripped it tightly. When she came to the encounter in his office just now, she gripped tight enough for Feyre to wince.

"Oh, I’m so sorry." She said and eased her grip.

"It’s ok. Thank you for listening, Morrigan. I really appreciate it."

"Please, call me Mor." The other woman said, wincing herself. "And I don’t care what that asshole told you, you’re not going back to his office."

Feyre gaped at her. "But I have to, or I’ll lose my job."

Mor looked devastated as she glanced at Feyre again. Then she let go of her hand and walked to her desk. "What if you worked for another partner instead?"

Feyre watched her and only then did she remember who she was working with. Feyre bit her lip. "Isn’t Rhysand the same?"

Mor gasped a little. "Oh no, he’s definitely not the same. And if he were, I would’ve cut my cousin’s balls off and nailed them to his forehead."

Feyre gaped at her. "He’s your cousin?"

Mor nodded but said, "Work with us, Feyre and I promise you, no one will do that to you again."

There was no choice. Feyre nodded.

Mor picked up the phone and Feyre watched as she told her cousin - Rhysand was her cousin - to come into her office immediately. Feyre wanted to protest but Mor already held her finger to her lips. "No, come in fifteen minutes."

After hanging up, she rummaged through one of her drawers and handed Feyre a bag of cosmetics. "You’re a bit of a mess." She told her apologetically and Feyre rose to walk towards the mirror on the wall.  
The bag held make up wipes which she used to clean off the last smeared remnants of her mascara. She found tinted moisturiser in the bag and applied it especially thick around her cheeks. They were still red from crying. There was nothing she could do about her eyes, so she just swiped a light coat of mascara over her lashes to at least attempt to look less of a mess. Her hair was another thing altogether. Running the comb through it tamed it a little but she decided to put it into low bun to get it out of her face.

When she turned to Mor, the other woman had filled two glasses with wine and handed her one of them. "Trust me it will make you feel better."

Feyre didn’t doubt her.

—

They sat on the couch, sipping on the wine when the knock on the door sounded. Mor jumped up and hurried over. "Get in here, doofus."

Feyre was surprised to hear someone refer to a partner as a doofus, especially someone as intimidating as Rhysand. Amarantha had a reputation but Rhysand wasn’t much better. She had heard stories about him that sounded more like nightmares of second rate lawyers than reality.

Beron and Helion weren’t much better. But Rhysand was definitely the one that had been talked about the most after Amarantha. She remembered a story in which he charmed the whole court room into buying a completely bullshit defence. Another story had been about how the rival lawyer had suddenly switched over to his side and agreed to everything Rhysand had said.

But as he entered the room, eyebrows drawn together in confusion and slight worry, Feyre didn’t really see that man in him. Or the predator he had been at the meeting of the partners.

Still, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat as Mor shut the door behind him. Rhysand looked at her then back at his cousin, raising one eyebrow at her. "What’s Tamlin’s girl doing here?"

"I’m not." Feyre hissed and his eyes flickered to her, clearly confused. "I’m not his girl."

He raised his hands in surrender but looked back at his cousin. Mor sighed. "I want her to work with me." She told him in a voice that left no room for question.

His eyebrow rose further. "Why?"

"Because," Mor said, turning and walking back to the couch. Only when she was once again seated next to Feyre did she continue, "Tamlin is a dick and doesn’t deserve her."

Rhysand then looked again at her. This time his eyes lingered, taking in her appearance and his eyes darkened. "What did he do?" His voice was low, almost a growl.

Mor gave him a pointed look. "Nothing we feel comfortable sharing with you quite yet. So go over there, tell that bastard that Feyre is definitely not coming back to his office and that she’ll be working for you from now on."

He squared his shoulders at that. "It’s not that simple, Mor."

A small voice escaped Feyre then. She couldn’t hold it back and both of them looked at her. She placed her glass of wine on the table before her and rose. "Thanks for the effort, Mor, but it’s fine. I’m gonna-" She swallowed, her legs shaking as she took her first step towards her doom.

Rhysand let out a long sigh. "I fucking hate this place." He said and turned on his heel and left the office, door slamming shut behind him.

Mor giggled then and Feyre looked down at her. "Come, sit back down. Rhys is probably going to be gone for a while."

"I need to get back to work, Mor." She said, but Mor gently pulled her back onto the couch. "Trust me, you won’t have to go back to him."

Feyre allowed the woman to pull her down. She could dream that there would be an easy solution to this. At least until Rhysand came back and told her that she needed to go back there. To Tamlin.

She drank her wine.

—

Rhysand came back after an hour and a half. By that time Feyre knew that she would either be switching partners or looking for a job the next day.

He entered, looking very pissed and dropped ungracefully into Mor’s chair without looking at either of them. He pinched the bridge of his nose and said, calmly, "Mor, would you be a dear and pour me a glass of something very strong."

Mor jumped off the couch and opened a cabinet to dig out a bottle of whiskey. She took a glass and the bottle to her desk. Rhysand opened his eyes watching the drink glass filling. As she made to take the bottle back, he said, "Leave it."

"That bad?" She asked. But he just drowned the glass, before tapping the glass again and fixing his eyes on Feyre.

"You’ll be working for us from now on. Tamlin isn’t happy about it." He said dryly and drained his second glass.

"Ok, I’m cutting you off if you’re just gonna chug it all in one go."

He sighed and put this glass down. "Care to tell me why Tamlin threatened to fucking kill me if I took you from him? You’re a first year, surely you not irreplaceable to him."

Mor shot her a questioning look and Feyre shrugged. They might as well have the whole thing out in the open.

"Because Tamlin wanted her to fuck Hybern to secure him as a client." Mor said, her voice harsh. Feyre didn’t flinch this time, and her eyes fixed on Rhysand’s, as she herself added, "He wanted to make sure I’m up for the job so he forced me to blow him."

His jaw tightened. She held his gaze this time, daring him. The last time they had looked at each other, she had been afraid of getting exactly that kind of attention but now she wanted to make sure that whatever working with him entailed, she wasn’t up for that. "So if you have any ideas like that tell me now and I can go pack up my stuff and leave."

The muscle in his jaw ticked. "No, Feyre." He said painfully slow. "I don’t plan on forcing myself on you. Or anyone for that matter."

His tone was cold and Mor was silent, not looking at either of them. Feyre just shrugged, she was beyond caring at this point. She hadn’t studied her ass off to be treated like a whore and she hadn’t quite realised what had been happening but now that she was here, she wouldn’t back down.

Neither of them broke. They kept looking each other. And Feyre gripped the glass of wine so tightly that she feared it might break. Then someone knocked at the door and all three of them turned towards it.

A hunk of a man entered. She remembered seeing him around, but couldn’t quite recall his name. He took one look at the situation before him and paused. He was taller than Rhysand and wider. He almost filled the doorway completely. His features were rough but the kindness in his face made up for it. His hair was long and dark and curling at the edges.

"Right, lunch." Mor said suddenly. "I totally forgot about that."

"What’s going on?" The newcomer said, his eyes drifting from Rhysand and Mor over to her.

"Cassian, meet Feyre, our new junior associate. Feyre meet Cassian, a prick who we sometimes employ as a private investigator."

He lifted his hand to wave and Feyre nodded in greeting. "New associate?" Cassian asked then, looking at Rhysand. "I thought you guys weren’t interested in one."

"Circumstances dictated it." Rhysand simply said and Mor chirped in, "Feyre, why don’t you join us for lunch. You can get to know us a bit better and afterwards we’ll handle the paperwork and I’ll find you a new desk. Unless you’d rather go home?"

Cassian’s confusion only grew but Feyre shook her head. "No, I’m fine. Let’s have lunch."

If she was staying here and away from Tamlin, she wouldn’t feed the rumor mill by taking a sick day. She would act like this was just an ordinary switch from one partner to another. Like nothing that would lead to gossip had happened.

So she drained the rest of her wine and stood. This time her legs were steadier and she took a deep breath and shoved any emotion into the depths of her mind. She had wanted this job. And a fucking entitled bastard would not ruin that for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feed my feedback hunger pls and say hi on tumblr @quakeriders


	3. the revelation

They did not have lunch at the diner across the street. 

Feyre hadn’t expected them to, but the place they went to wasn’t what she had expected either. Mor with her red dress and her immaculate hair and Rhysand with his elegant black suit didn’t seem like the people to have lunch in a restaurant that was small and cozy and could barely house more than a dozen people.

Before they had left, Feyre had gone back to her desk to get her purse. Lucien had caught her eye and was about to talk to her, when she had said something about, "I’m late for lunch, gotta go, sorry" before taking off. She had almost been tempted to take the stairs instead of being a sitting duck by the elevators, but Mor and the others had still been waiting for her.

Feyre had opted to listen as the three of them talked. It was mostly Mor who did the talking. But Cassian wasn’t that far off. Rhysand however was silent, only occasionally agreeing with either of them and nodding along. 

She caught him watching her every now and then. Even though she had believed him when he had told her that he wouldn’t be like Tamlin, she still didn’t know _what_ to think of him.

She was working in an office full of sharks and he was the most bloodthirsty of them all. She was intimidated by him, that was for sure. But she also felt bold when their eyes locked. It seemed like those dark blue eyes were challenging her and Feyre had never been someone who backed down from a fight.

Except— She shoved the thought down. She wouldn’t wallow in self pity and be turned into a blubbering mess. She had survived working 36 hours shifts and studying for three exams and passing them all without sleeping for days. She had worked her ass off to get here. She wouldn’t let anyone take that away from her. Tamlin wasn’t better than her. Neither was Rhysand.

As they had walked, her muscles had tensed with each step. But now, sitting here, right by the river, the scent of the sea in her nose, she felt herself relax for the first time since she had gotten into that damned car last night.

Feyre realised a beat too late that it wasn’t just the three of them anymore at the table. Amren, Rhysand’s other associate, had joined them. And with her another impossibly handsome man had sat down. His colouring was similar to that of Cassian’s and she wondered if they were related. The two of them had brown skin, while Rhysand’s was a shade lighter than theirs. Maybe they were all related, she wondered and turned her attention back to the table.

"Feyre, you know Amren already." Rhysand said. "And that is Azriel, the best private investigator in the city."

She gave them both a polite nod and sipped from her water. Mor had ordered wine for herself and Feyre was amazed that the bubbly woman was already on her third glass of the day before she had even eaten lunch. 

As if on cue, their food was delivered and Feyre used it as an excuse to let the others talk. She hadn’t seen much of Rhysand and his associates over the last three months. Neither had she worked with them during her internship last summer. So, she used this time to watch them. Get to know them. Try to figure them out.

But Amren didn’t seem to want to stay in the dark about Feyre’s intentions. She gave her a once over that made the tiny woman seem more like a wolf and then turned her sharp eyes towards Rhysand. "How can you be sure that she wasn’t sent by Tamlin to spy on our more confidential cases? 

Mor made a sound that sounded like a growl, but it was Rhysand who replied, "I trust Feyre completely."

She was surprised and a little suspicious as she looked at him. But his eyes were fixed on Amren. "We can’t afford mistrust between our inner circle or we won’t be able to do what we’re trying to do."

Cassian let out a low whistle and spoke in a low murmur, "So, she’s all in? As in operation Book of Breathings." Mor rolled her eyes at the name, but everyone else’s face was deadly serious.

"If Feyre wishes to assist us with that case, yes, she will be _all in_." Rhysand said, intoning the last words like Cassian had. And finally, he met her gaze. "What do you say, do you wish to help us take down Hybern?"

His tone was barely a whisper and she knew that this was something he wasn’t sharing easily. At the same time Feyre realised what he was offering. A chance to get revenge. She knew that Hybern was a shady business man, she had heard enough stories, had seen enough in the files Tamlin had given her. Nothing that could be proven easily.

And these people; Rhysand and his inner circle - as he had called them - wanted to take down Hybern. If they managed it, it would be greatest accomplishment of the century. Feyre wanted in. Especially now that she had seen that he expected people to bend over backwards for him.

"Yes." She said.

The tense air around the table eased. "Good. But this isn’t the place to talk about details."

And with that they resumed their earlier conversations. Azriel told Mor something about a witness, but Mor brushed it off by demanding less talk about work and more talk about what they were going to do on the weekend.

—

It seemed that the place to talk about the details was Rhysand’s office. It was surprisingly bigger than Tamlin’s and was decorated with sleek, dark furniture. Despite that, the office seemed full of light and spacious. 

Cassian and Azriel had left after lunch, so Feyre was sitting with Mor on the black leather couch. Armen was lounging in one armchair like a queen, while Rhysand sat in the other.

Between them was a glass coffee table and there were papers and folders strewn across from it. Amren had been efficient in disclosing the most important pieces of information to Feyre in a brisk manner. 

Her tone might have been indifferent, but what she said had raised the hair on Feyre’s arms. Hybern had many skeletons in his closet and somehow over the last couple of years Rhysand and the others had managed to connect him to various criminal activities in the country and overseas.

The evidence was insubstantial in most cases, but to anyone who looked at the bigger picture it was clear that Hybern was the spider that sat in the middle of a web of warcrimes.

One case in particular caught Feyre’s eye and she remembered the file she had been given. There were a couple details in them that were missing from this collection. She told them as much.

Amren’s silver eyes widened at that. "We need those documents."

So, as promised Feyre packed up her desk that afternoon and moved to the other end of the office. Her new desk was close to both Mor’s and Rhysand’s offices and after she had dumped her few personal belongings on the desk or stashed them in the drawers, she took the folder back into his office.

She also forwarded Amren the other documents Tamlin had sent her and Amren dashed off to look at them.

"Tamlin will know that we have this information now," She had said before leaving. "So we better act quickly."

During the past couple of hours something had been nagging in the back of her mind and Feyre couldn’t hold back anymore. These people were so different than Tamlin and Lucien. The two men had been detached, cold-blooded and didn’t appear very friendly with each other. But Rhysand and his people acted like they were a family. And even with Amren and Azriel as the least emotional in the group, they seemed fiercely passionate as they talked about their work.

It was the romantic notion of being a lawyer. Doing the job not because one knew that they were the best and would win, to gain fame and respect in this shark-infested hell, but because they believed it was the right thing to do.

And it didn’t mix well with the stories she’d heard about these people. And it didn’t fit into this firm. Sure, the partners were all very different, but Amarantha prided herself on being the most bloodthirsty lawyer in this country. She didn’t pull any punches and had the record to prove it.

"Why do you work for Amarantha?" She asked, eyes drifting from Mor to Rhysand. She had thought him to be just as bloodthirsty but his actions today seemed to hint that there was a more _human_ side to him.

Rhysand leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his black hair. Then he looked back at her. "Because as long as she thinks that we are loyal to her, she won’t suspect us. And she won’t come after us."

"You’re not just trying to take down Hybern, do you?" She asked, realisation dawning. "You want to take her down with him."

He nodded. Amarantha was prominently featured in the file they had on Hybern. It seemed that whenever he did something particularly disgusting, she was the one to clean up the mess, whether she did it directly or indirectly.

"He’s the reason she made managing partner in the first place." Mor told her, before she, too, left them.

Alone with Rhysand in his office, she asked the most important question. "Why do you trust me?"

Again, he seemed to be searching for the right words. Feyre waited and when he was ready, their eyes locked. "There are a couple of reasons. Mostly related." When she didn’t react, he went on, "I know that you’re good at what you do. I’ve known since I saw the defence you prepared in your first week as an intern. Of course Lucien and Tamlin took your work and didn’t give you credit, but I was here when you spent the whole night working on it." 

She was surprised.

"I kept an eye on you from then on. I know Tamlin’s style and Lucien’s and I knew— knew when it wasn’t their work that went into winning cases. So, when you came back to work here, I decided to keep a closer eye on you."

Feyre tried not to blush. She thought, she’d been doing a good job of keeping her head down, of not being noticed.

"And the more I watched you, the more I realised that you weren’t just good at your job, but you were _good_. I mean as a person. You didn’t act like the others, you didn’t try to stay one step ahead of everyone. Do you have any idea how rare it is, to not become a bloodthirsty monster in this hellhole?"

His eyes were flashing with some emotion she couldn’t name and it made her body react in strange ways. She swallowed the lump in her throat and looked down at her hands.

"So, I trust that you’re a good person. And that after seeing what we’re trying to do, you won’t tell anyone about what we have told you."

Their eyes locked again and Rhysand’s cheeks were flushed. She felt that surely she must be gaping at him, so she took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Thank you." 

His voice shifted and with that his expression turned somehow softer. "I know that what happened to you is horrible, _trust me_ , I do. You’re not the first person to be treated that way, and you won’t be the last. But I found that working to right the wrongs committed is a good way to start healing."

Those words. Was he admitting that he had lived through something similar? Feyre wanted to ask him, but wasn’t sure if she could handle much more of this. Whatever her chest was doing, it was painful. She wanted to hug him, to ask him to tell her everything or run away.

So she opted for the safer of those options and said, "I should get back to work."

— 

Afterwards, Feyre had gone to her new desk, only to find a couple of junior associates milling around, attempting to throw sneaky glances her way. One of them approached her after a couple of minutes and leaned casually against her desk.

"So.." She started and Feyre looked up at her, face blank. "What happened with Tamlin?" 

Feyre fought her scowl and kept looking at her. "Are you jealous? We all know that Rhysand is the better lawyer. Wouldn’t you make the switch if given the opportunity?"

The other woman searched her face for couple more moments. Then a sly smile stretched on her lips. "Well, I did. Tamlin’s better than Beron, so I’ll be replacing you."

Feyre gave her poisonous smile. "I’m happy for you. You should know however that Lucien is a hardass and Beron’s son, so be careful what you say about your former boss with him."

That seemed to be news for her and as the woman hurried off, Feyre held in a snicker. She had deliberately left out the part in which Lucien detested his father and used every moment to talk shit about him.

She went back to the work Mor had given her and the people on her, disappointed by the lack of a scene, disappeared as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look, its some feysand..  
> also its probably going to be a while before i update this again bc i need to figure out my game plan
> 
> so if you like it, pls give me feedback

**Author's Note:**

> characters, relationships, tags will be added as the story progresses
> 
> feed my feedback hunger pls and say hi on tumblr @quakeriders


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